


Make Love Your Guiding Light

by to_new_mutiny



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, M/M, Some pining, mentioned Jess/Karé, mentioned Rey/Rose Tico, very slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-23 01:46:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12495724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/to_new_mutiny/pseuds/to_new_mutiny
Summary: Soulmate AU, where you can only see colour in places your soulmate has been before. Some may spend their entire life searching out their soulmate- for a lucky few, a chance meeting is all it takes, but it doesn't help if the two of you live in the middle of a bustling city.Or the story of how Finn and Poe (finally) met, as told through 5 colours.





	Make Love Your Guiding Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [linatrinch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/linatrinch/gifts).



> This was written for the lovely linatrinch as part of the SWWA gift exchange. The prompt was Finn or Finnpoe, soulmate AU/magic (not sure i managed the magic part though)
> 
> Hope you enjoy- and I'm sorry this is so late!

**_Crimson_ **

 

A gust of hot, gritty air blew through the station, sending coats and jackets flapping wildly about their owners as the train shot out of the tunnel. Finn, long since a seasoned (and disgruntled) commuter, simply pulled his coat a little tighter around himself with one hand, taking a sip of coffee from the cup in the other as he pushed through the throng of people to where the doors were about to open.

It had been a frustrating morning. His regular trains had, apparently, all disappeared from the face of the earth, meaning he had had to get the Overground and change trains _twice_ , nearly missing his first connection- and that was without counting the long walk that awaited him at the other end.

Even the weather was against him today. The sky that had greeted him when he opened his curtains had been a deeper shade of grey than usual, the threat of rain hanging heavy in the air. It was days like this that made Finn long for his old haunts, the few places where he could walk among colours that he knew had shone as brightly to his soulmate as they did to him. It was a comfort, in a way, to have some sort of connection with them, but more often than not it left him drained, despairing of ever meeting his soulmate face to face.

Finn shook himself from his reverie, trying to push away the maudlin thoughts as he knocked back another swallow of coffee. The bitterness flooded his mouth, and he had to stifle a sigh of relief as the warmth permeated through his body, settling deep and comforting in his stomach.

The train was as crowded as expected, and he had to fight to keep his balance as it jolted into motion, grabbing onto a pole as it roared off into the blackness of the tunnels once more. _Six stops to go_ … he felt his eyelids growing heavy, despite the application of more coffee. _Maybe Rey switched the normal stuff out for decaf again_. He took another sip, just to be sure, and grimaced. _Yep, definitely decaf. Rey is a menace_ , he thought with a mix of exasperation and fondness. His flatmate was nothing if not a blessing, though Finn would never admit that to her face (Rey was already entirely _too_ pleased with herself). Her taste in coffee, however, left quite a lot to be desired.

The swaying motions of the train were strangely soothing, the clacking sounds of tracks switching providing a comforting backdrop of noise. Against his will, Finn felt himself falling into a light doze, his grip on the pole growing slack as the train roared through the tunnels, before juddering to a halt at Covent Gardens. The harsh motion jolted Finn awake, sending him stumbling slightly. A few of his fellow passengers gave him dirty looks as he knocked into them, but that didn’t matter one jot to Finn, who was staring, wide-eyed, at the colourful scene before him.

Greys and browns had crept almost imperceptibly into the station, tinting the dirty, off-white tiles and the concrete platform. Brighter hues, a splash of golden-brown hair escaping from under a hat, the verdant green stems of a bouquet of flowers, swirled before his eyes, waking him up more thoroughly than even caffeinated coffee could.

_My soulmate is here. They’re **here** , on the platform._

He looked around wildly, scanning the faces in the carriage, but seeing only exhausted, drawn features, none with the awe that was currently sparking through every nerve in Finn’s body. He bolted onto the platform as soon as the doors opened, shoving past shuffling commuters and desperately searching each face that flashed by.

He saw nothing, no recognition or joy lighting up the eyes of those he passed, nor could he see anyone else making the same, haphazard dash from person to person. Finn sprinted for the escalators, taking the stairs two at a time, and followed the trail of colour upwards until he burst out from the Underground entrance into a heaving mass of people – all in glorious hues of every colour under the sun- but none who looked as if they, too, had just had their world turned on its head.

Finn whirled around in vain, the colour spread all about him, beautiful and mesmerising and completely, utterly directionless. His soulmate could be anywhere, and in the throng of people there was no hope of finding them. _So close, and yet so fucking far._ He could have screamed with frustration.

A shove from a burly, suited businessman reminded him that he was blocking the entrance to the station, and he moved aside, too numb with shock to protest the rough treatment. Finn leant back against the railings, closing his eyes and taking several deep breaths to lower his hammering pulse. When he reopened them, he gazed up at the bright crimson sign that proclaimed the entrance to the tube station, and fought down the sudden, inexplicable urge to laugh, or maybe cry, he wasn’t sure.

He had been _so_ near; he might have even _touched_ his soulmate in his frantic dash up the escalator, and now… perhaps he would forever be chasing after scraps of colour in his life, left behind by a soulmate he might never see again.

Maybe- and _oh_ , what a thought-maybe his soulmate wasn’t even here. Maybe it had been months, years even, since they came to the station- and Finn would have no way of knowing, as this was the first time he had been here.

And ok, he was probably a little nearer to tears than laughter now.

****

**_Apricot_ **

Poe looked down, almost mute with shock, at the suddenly brilliant green stems in his hands. He felt as though he had been struck by lightning- one minute, shuffling, zombie-like, along the platform, the next almost blinded as the train rushed into the station, the densely-packed crowd surrounding him about the only thing keeping him upright as the buffeting wind and shock of colour did their utmost to bowl him over.

That was nothing, however, compared to the revelation that hit him like a hammer blow- _my soulmate is on that train_.

He frantically shoved his way through the crowd, leaping the gap between the platform and the train, and made his way through the carriage at a (fairly) controlled run, earning vaguely concerned looks from most but unable to find it within himself to care. His entire being vibrated with a nervous energy, his pulse humming beneath his skin as though his heart were about to leap from his chest.

_Perhaps it will, when I finally meet my soulmate._

With each blank face he passed, however, Poe’s euphoria faded a little more, the fire behind his ribs dying out to leave something ashy and cold.

He stopped momentarily as the shrill beeping of the closing doors sounded, and turned to look back in the direction of the platform.

Where he saw the colour, lacing through the crowd like dye in water. It flowed upwards, towards the escalator and out of sight, and, most importantly, _away from the departing train_.

Poe would have screamed, if he could have found his voice. If this were one of those rom-coms that Jess was so inordinately fond of, he would, in a burst of superhuman strength, have wrenched the doors open, sprinted out of the station, and united with the love of his life. Maybe there would be a light rain falling, the soaring music of violins.

Instead, all he had was the wheezy shuddering of the train pulling away from the platform, and bruised crescents on his palms where his nails had dug into his skin.

-

Poe slumped, exhausted, onto the bench. Were it not for the delivery and collection he had needed to complete, he thought it probable that the emotional rollercoaster of this morning would have been enough to wipe him out entirely, and he would, at this moment, be dozing on a train headed for some obscure station out in the suburbs.

Instead, he had dropped off the bouquet he’d been delivering, then journeyed back into central London to pick up some flowers he had requested for a bridal floral arrangement.

So now here he was; sitting by the pond in St. James’ Park, cradling several stems of Bird of Paradise flowers in his arms and watching the soft autumnal sunshine playing over the iridescence of the central petals.

It had been autumn all those many years ago, too- his 5th birthday, and the first colour he had seen in his life.

Truth be told, his recollection of that day was hazy; the most he remembered was the whirlwind of russet and amber that swept past him as a breeze stirred the leaves, and the joy on his parents’ faces as he raced about, babbling all the names of the colours he saw around him. It was the last memory he had of them, together and happy, before his mama had died, and all the colour had leached out of his papa’s world.

He returned to the park only infrequently now- it helped him with his work in designing bouquets, as the shop held no colour for him- but each visit left him hollow, any beauty it held as a link with his soulmate marred by the bittersweet memory of his parents, when they were both alive and whole.

The sound of footsteps snapped Poe from his trance, and he looked up to see one of the Bird of Paradise flowers placed on the bench beside him. The man who had done so stepped backwards, looking slightly embarrassed.

“Excuse me- you dropped that, and it didn’t look like you noticed. I didn’t want you to trample on it when you stood up,” he explained, a slight hesitancy in his tone. Poe nodded in thanks, and the stranger relaxed minutely.

“Yeah, that would have been a bit of a disaster,” Poe laughed, “so thank you for saving my day.” _In more ways than one_ , he thought to himself. The man looked tired, but there was an undeniable warmth in his dark eyes, and something about his defined features suggested an easy, open smile. Then he gave a slight grin, and it was even more beautiful than Poe had imagined.

To his surprise, the man made to sit down on the bench beside him, then stopped, looking uncertain. Poe picked up the flower beside him, the invitation wordless but clear. The stranger perched on the edge of the bench with a sigh of relief.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. It wasn’t awkward, as Poe had expected it to be, but comfortable, as though they were not complete strangers, but old friends who did not need conversation to fill the gaps. Nevertheless, Poe found himself eager to talk, to discover something about the man with the gorgeous smile, but oddly unable to do so, becoming tongue-tied whenever he turned to him.

It wasn’t just that he was possibly the loveliest man he’d ever seen, although that certainly took its toll on Poe’s ability to speak. No, it was more that there was something there, something that felt like electric sparks, crackling in the space between them- which both felt close and far too distant at the same time- and Poe was helpless in the face of it. It was ridiculous, he told himself; whatever this connection was _had_ to be imaginary- there was no way he could be falling this far, this fast, for someone he didn’t even know.

Just as Poe had _finally_ worked up the nerve to say something, the stranger’s phone rang. He frowned down at the screen, then turned to Poe.

“Sorry, I’ve got to take this- and I should probably be going,” he apologised, seeming genuinely regretful.

They said some awkward goodbyes, and the stranger walked off, leaving Poe on the bench, clutching the stem of the Bird of Paradise flower and smiling faintly at the apricot tones of the petals. He hadn’t spoken, and neither had the stranger- but he was strangely confident that they would meet again, somehow.

 

**_Primrose_ **

Finn left the park with a spring in his step, and a slight smile which he seemed to be unable to shake. It stayed with him for the rest of the afternoon, forever tugging at the corner of his mouth- to the point where Slip, his colleague and sometimes-friend, asked bluntly if he was feeling alright. Finn only nodded in reply, which thankfully got Slip off his back.

To give Slip his due, though, Finn himself wasn’t sure if he was ok, or any semblance of “normal”. He felt… buoyant, and had been so ever since the brief encounter with a complete ( _and gorgeous_ ) stranger on his regular lunchtime walk through St. James’ Park.

The park was one of the few places of colour in his life, and had been ever since he was small, but Finn was normally ambivalent to the place at best. For him, the glowing hues of the place only served as a reminder: of how dull the rest of his life was by comparison, how he had yet to find his soulmate, and how he despaired of ever doing so. Even so, he could never quite bring himself to cut away some of the only colour he had ever experienced in his life.

The walk, coupled with the events of the morning, should have left Finn more despondent than ever, a dark cloud hanging over his head and souring his mood. Instead, he felt refreshed, and, he had to admit, happier than he had in months.

It was hope, he realised, that was causing this almost giddy feeling, although he wasn’t quite sure _what_ it was he was hoping for.

Of course, meeting a ridiculously beautiful stranger hadn’t hurt either. Throughout the afternoon, Finn caught himself thinking of the man, his deep dark eyes and the way the light had caught in his tousled curls. He thought, too, of how it might have felt to reach out, to lean just that little bit further and capture the hand that had rested on the bench in one of his own.

Something deep in his gut told him that his world might have changed.

He knew he was being absurd. The best reaction he might have hoped for would have been a puzzled look as the stranger politely extracted his hand from Finn’s. It wouldn’t do to romanticise a chance encounter with someone whom he would likely never meet again, even if they did look like a Renaissance masterpiece come to life.

Nevertheless, as he worked into the late afternoon, the nagging feeling of importance attached to the encounter lingered- as did the memory of dark, long-lashed eyes and cold-flushed cheeks.

 -

Finn stood from his seat with a long groan, wincing slightly as he stretched his back, feeling it click. _Rey would tell me it’s my fault for sitting at my desk for too long_ , he thought, grinning as he imagined his flatmate’s mock-disapproving glare. She was only a couple of years younger than Finn, but, as she often reminded him, definitely the more sensible of the two.

_Speaking of which_ …

It would be Rey’s birthday the coming Saturday. Finn had already ordered her a new set of weights, which would hopefully arrive tomorrow, but now he found himself wanting to give her something else along with the gift. Rey was almost a sister to him, and throughout school and university they had remained incredibly close, supporting each other through thick and thin. Finn had often thought that if he never found his soulmate, he would be more than happy to stay with Rey forever. (Of course, that had been until she met her soulmate, though their friendship had not in any way suffered).

_I want to show her how much she means to me_ , Finn thought, _but how?_

The question plagued Finn all through his walk to the station, which was nearly twice as long as usual, since the stations nearby were closed. To save time, he cut through Covent Gardens’ market to reach the station entrance on the other side, walking hurriedly across the square, his hands shoved in his pockets and shoulders hunched against the biting wind.

At first it was difficult to say exactly what it was that drew his attention to the small shop on the corner. In the low light of the evening, it took him a while to realise; but as Finn looked closer, the lights in the shop window began to appear less like the light-grey he had first expected, and seemed warmer, softer. Then he registered the displays behind the glass, and let out a soft gasp.

As he moved nearer, scarcely daring to hope lest he be proven wrong, the flowers in window took on definite hues; blood-reds and royal purples seeming to overwhelm his senses, to the point where he swore he could almost _feel_ the velvety petals beneath his fingers.

Feeling as though he were under a spell, Finn pushed open the door, and the multitude of colours and the soft, faintly earthy smell of the shop that greeted him crashed over him like a wave.

He could happily stay here forever, he thought, surrounded by a sea of flowers.

“Sorry, I’ll just be a minute!” a voice called from the back room, startling him slightly. It was soon followed by a pretty Asian woman, who was wiping a smudge of dirt from her cheek. She didn’t look in any way surprised as she entered the shop, so Finn figured she couldn’t be his soulmate.

“Hi, welcome to Bey’s Blooms. Is there anything I can do for you, or are you just browsing?” she asked.

“I… umm,” Finn began, realising that he didn’t really have a reason for coming into the shop other than the colour, which didn’t even mean that his soulmate was in there now. _Although… this would be the perfect place to get something for Rey_.

“Actually, yeah- I was looking for something for a friend’s birthday. Do you do personalised arrangements?” he asked, mentally berating himself for not thinking of this sooner. Rey loved plants of all kinds, and a bouquet would be a nice additional gift to go with the weights.

So Finn sat down with the young woman, whose name was Jess, to plan the arrangement. As Rey had already met her soulmate, Finn decided on colour as the main theme- yellow, for his “Rey of sunshine” as he would tell her- and would most likely get a playful punch for his terrible joke. The bouquet comprised mostly of yellow lilies, as well as some other flowers for contrasting and filling the gaps, which Jess assured him they would add in later. It was a simple arrangement, without a particular meaning, but would hopefully bring a smile to Rey’s face.

As he was about to pay, his eye alighted on a pot of delicate yellow primroses sitting on the counter. He knew Rey generally preferred live flowers over cut ones- had whole windowsills of plants to prove it, in fact, and the soft shade of creamy-yellow would be a lovely addition to her collection. He finished paying up, giving the shop his address and contact details in case he needed delivery, and added the potted plant to his total, leaving the shop with the primroses held carefully in his hands.

 

**_Emerald_ **

Poe woke to the unfriendly chiming of his alarm. He groaned, rolling over to bash vaguely at his phone until the room was blessedly silent once more. Nevertheless, he knew he had to get up and open the shop, so after lying against the pillows and softly cursing his life for 15 minutes straight, he rolled out of bed to get ready.

20 minutes later, and he was making his way downstairs to the backroom of the shop. His mama’s family had owned the shop and the rooms above it for as long as anyone could remember, and Poe had grown up with the heady scent of flowers surrounding him, wrapping him and his parents in a warm, comforting cocoon.

His papa had nearly sold the shop after mama’s death; only the memory of how much she had loved it had prevented him from doing so. He had hired a family friend, L’ulo- who could see colour- to help him arrange the flowers, and for the most part had left the running of the shop to him- and, when he was old enough, Poe. As the reputation of the shop grew, Poe had in turn hired Jess and Snap, both of whom had met their soulmates and could therefore help design the floral arrangements.

_Speak of the devil…_ Poe grinned as Jess’ voice floated up to him from outside, muttering curses under her breath as she wrenched open the stiff lock on the backroom door. He poked his head round the doorframe, laughing slightly at the murderous glare she shot in his direction.

“Okay there, Pava? You seem a little… frazzled.”

“Fuck off, Dameron,” Jess replied, with no real heat to it. She moved past him and set her bag down on the table with a yawn.

“If you go and open the shopfront, I can make some coffee quickly,” he offered, taking pity on her exhausted state.

Jess eyed him suspiciously as she pulled out her keys to the front room of the shop. “What’s got you in such a generous mood this morning? Normally your lazy ass would barely be conscious at this point, let alone- oh wait. You aren’t still on a high from meeting Mr Dreamy Smile yesterday, are you?”

Poe sputtered, indignantly attempting to protest- though he couldn’t deny the truth of the statement. Thoughts of the stranger’s broad smile and warm, welcoming eyes had lodged themselves deeply into Poe’s mind, creating a longing ache that was far more intense than Poe could justify. They couldn’t even have been said to have _met_ properly, and yet within the course of a few minutes, his entire world had shifted in its orbit, and now centred on a bright grin and deep brown eyes.

Jess patted his shoulder sympathetically, though it was clear she was biting back a smile. “It’s ok, Poe, I know how you feel. I was much the same over Karé. Now how about you go upstairs and make me that coffee you promised, while I open up?”

Her words echoed in Poe’s mind as he mechanically filled the kettle and measured out the coffee grounds. Karé was Jess’ soulmate- a brilliant medical student who often popped by to visit when she was free. To compare Poe’s reaction to the stranger to Jess’ when she met Karé made it sound as if…

_As if the guy were my soulmate_.

Poe dismissed that thought immediately. The chance meeting mean nothing- and the man hadn’t looked as though he had seen colour when he met Poe. No matter how Poe felt about him, it was highly unlikely that they were soulmates, and his ridiculous crush on a complete stranger would only make him miserable. Fantastical romantic meetings didn’t have a place in real life, that much he knew- and certainly not in his own.

The thought was sobering, to say the least.

He added milk to Jess’ cup, resolutely _not_ thinking about how the coffee in his own exactly matched the shade of the man’s eyes, and made his way downstairs, taking the steps one at a time to avoid tripping on the old, warped wood. The staircase was rickety and uneven, and he had more than once tripped and fallen down it, which he did not want a repeat of whilst carrying hot drinks. He made it to the bottom without injury, and mentally congratulated himself for not spilling a drop of the coffee- Jess would have most likely killed him otherwise, as her moods this early in the morning tended to vary alarmingly between sleepy and homicidal without the addition of caffeine.

All of his hard work was promptly undone as he entered the shop, and came face to face with a cascade of greenery. Poe yelped in shock and jumped backwards, then cursed as the motion caused the coffee to slop over the rim of the mug and onto his chest. It was scalding hot, but he barely registered the pain.

Because, for the first time in all the 27 years he’d lived here, the shop was in glorious, vivid _colour_.

All that he could note, as he stared blankly at the shop, was how _green_ everything was. How the ivy hanging over the doorway was so dark as to be almost black, how the jade stems of the lilies in the window seemed almost translucent in the early-morning sunlight, and how all the shades in between that flooded the shop had, _only yesterday_ , been greys.

At his exclamation, Jess had leapt up from where she was working on a bouquet design at the counter. She took one look at his face and, although Poe himself was not sure what she saw there, came to the right conclusion.

“You know, a customer came in yesterday evening and had almost the _exact_ same expression. Do you think…?” she trailed off, sounding vaguely hopeful.

“Maybe,” Poe said, trying and failing to contain the sudden flare of… _something_ in his chest. A scheming grin spread over Jess’ face, and she nodded over to the half-finished sketch on the counter.

“That’s his order over there- birthday flowers for a friend of his. If you complete it, I’ll give you the honour of delivering it to him. You could find out if he’s your soulmate, _and_ give him flowers in the process,” she suggested. Poe groaned.

“This sounds like something from a shitty romance novel,” he pretended to complain, but dutifully settled down with a pencil in his hand.

-

By the next day, the bouquet was as complete as it was likely to ever be; as per the request, the majority of the flowers were yellow, from golden calla lilies to delicate sprays of creamy jasmine, with sprigs of young ferns and baby’s breath to fill the gaps between larger blooms, and white roses for contrast. Poe could not help but tweak the arrangement almost continually, adding or removing flowers to the point where Jess near-shoved him away from the bouquet.

“It’s as perfect as it’s ever gonna get, Poe, stop fussing. It’s not as if you’re using these to _propose_ to the guy- hell, these aren’t even really for _him_.” At Poe’s abashed look, she relented, pulling him into a quick hug before pressing a scrap of paper into his hands. “This is his address- I sent him an email, and he replied, so he’s expecting you. And, Poe…,” here Jess looked briefly uncertain, chewing her lip before hugging him again, holding on longer and tighter, “I really hope this works out for you.”

Poe buried his face against her shoulder, willing himself not to tear up over this show of concern. For all that they spent much of their time pretending to argue, Jess was the closest friend Poe had, and he wasn’t sure he could remember a time when he and Jess hadn’t been there for each other. He wasn’t sure he wanted to remember, either. They remained like that for a long moment, before Jess pushed him away, huffing, “Don’t go getting all mushy on me, Dameron- go out there and get your man,” in a not-quite-steady voice. Poe’s answering grin was a little more watery than normal, and he turned away to pick up the bouquet- and ok, maybe he wiped at his eyes a bit.

As he was about to leave, the elegant stems of the Bird of Paradise flowers near the door caught his eye. Something, intuition perhaps, made him pluck an individual bloom from the vase they were in, and tuck it into the wrappings of the bouquet, its emerald-hued leaves contrasting beautifully with the creamy paper.

 

**_Azure_ **

It was a particularly beautiful day, Finn thought- the crisp autumn air, leaves just beginning to fall, a faint scent of bonfire smoke carried along on a chill breeze.

Shame he didn’t have time to stop and appreciate it.

The appointment the florists had made was for 5 o’clock, and from the moment Finn had got on the Tube, it had taken him around two seconds to realise he probably wasn’t going to make it in time. It shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did, but for some reason it felt vital that he was there to greet whoever it was that Jess had sent.

Finn had bolted from the train as soon as the doors had opened, his feet beating a quick staccato rhythm on the steps as he pushed past the usual flow of rush-hour commuters. The streets were surprisingly empty, and Finn took advantage of that as he settled into an easy jog, the flow of cool air numbing his fingers and the tip of his nose. He chanced a look at his watch as he rounded the corner, surprised to see that he might in fact be on time to meet the person from the florists’.

His experience at the shop had left an impression on Finn, to say the least. That, combined with meeting the startlingly attractive man (who still carried an odd significance in his mind) earlier that same day had left Finn almost in shock by the time he arrived home. Rey, bless her, had been wonderfully patient and understanding, sitting through his rambling soliloquies on the beautiful stranger that could have rivalled Shakespeare’s for length and flowery language. In all fairness, he had done the same for her when she had first met Rose, though Finn refused to imagine that his encounter with the stranger was in any way comparable with meeting his soulmate, no matter the instant spark that Finn had felt when he saw him.

It was too random, he supposed, that must be it- that, and the guy hadn’t looked like Finn had felt at the station that morning, mesmerised by the new colours around him. Besides, the stranger had been carrying a bunch of flowers- for a lover, perhaps? _Definitely not my soulmate_ , Finn concluded, trying to stifle his disappointment.

He reached his apartment at around 10 to 5, which gave him time to hurriedly clear away the worst of the mess littering their apartment- Finn was lazy when it came to cleaning, and Rey was lazier still, so there were often mad scrambles like this when someone was coming over. Finn didn’t know why it bothered him that a stranger might judge him for his messy apartment, then realised that a part of him wanted to give the best impression to someone he still hoped was his soulmate.

It would make sense, after all; his soulmate working in the shop would explain why it held colour for Finn, and why the area around Covent Gardens’ station was in colour as well. Then again, it could easily all be a coincidence- his soulmate might have been there years ago, might even have moved to another country for all Finn knew- and ok, he probably shouldn’t go down this route again if he didn’t want another emotional breakdown. Last night’s had been bad enough, but at least he had had Rey with him then.

The intercom by the door sounded, the buzz gratingly loud in the empty apartment. Finn stood from the sofa and thumbed the button, steadying himself before speaking.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Poe, from Bey’s Blooms? I’ve got a delivery for a Finn Kenobi,” a warm male voice replied, carrying a hint of uncertainty. The man- Poe- sounded oddly familiar, he thought.

“Oh right, thank you! Umm…come on in,” Finn said, pressing the button to unlock the door downstairs. He heard it pulled open, and a brief roar from the traffic outside, before the sound was abruptly cut off when the door slammed shut.

One minute passed, then two. Then three.

_Could he have gone to the wrong apartment?_ Finn wondered, getting up to open the door. He turned the handle, the door swung on its hinges…

And there he was. The man from the park. Poe.

And the _colour_.

Finn staggered, his head reeling, and promptly tripped backwards over the coffee table. For his part, Poe too looked as though he’d been struck, clearly experiencing the same intoxicating rush of vivid hues, but he leapt into action, catching Finn just before he hit the floor.

For a moment they remained like that, still as a statue. Finn was hyperaware of the other’s proximity, of the warmth of his hand through Finn’s shirt, and the pink of his lips, mere inches away from Finn’s own. _It would be so easy to lean up and kiss him_. The thought was a dizzying one, and Finn hastily jerked away, unsure that such an approach would be welcomed.

A flash of something- disappointment, maybe? - passed across Poe’s face, and he too stood back, nervously running a hand through his curls before clearing his throat.

“You- you saw that too, right?”

Finn didn’t need clarification as to what “that” was- the expression on Poe’s face at the colour that rushed into the apartment had mirrored exactly how Finn had felt. He nodded, unsure what would come spilling out if he opened his mouth to speak, and then decided to throw caution to the winds.

“Then that means we’re… _soulmates_ ,” the last coming out in barely more than a whisper. He stepped forwards, gratified to see that Poe, too, had drawn nearer, both of them moving as though magnetised by the other’s presence.

And suddenly, there were no more words needed between them, no explanation needed of _this_ , which felt so right, so natural.

The kiss was like a thunderstorm, both beautiful and terrifying in equal measure, and left them grasping desperately at each other, holding on as though afraid of being swept away. All the despair, all the helpless longing which had haunted Finn in the past few days came rushing out, and he slammed his eyes shut against the tears which threatened to fall. As the kiss changed, becoming less desperate and sweeter, slower, something settled in Finn’s mind, and the tears which now filled his eyes were tears of joy.

They parted after long moments, both panting heavily. Finn was captivated by the sight of Poe, his lips swollen and reddened from the kiss, with his hair adorably mussed and his eyes suspiciously bright as he brought something out from behind his back, offering it to Finn.

“I guess I was right to bring this, after all,” he said, presenting Finn with a single, lovely flower.

“Is this… is this the one you dropped, when we met in the park?” Finn asked, taking it from his hand and gazing at it almost reverently. Poe nodded.

“I had hoped… I’m not sure why… but I thought, maybe, it might be you. I wanted to see if it was, and if- if you recognised me, so I brought it. I think I know now that you did,” he grinned.

“You think?” Finn teased. “You mean you’re still not _sure_ that I recognised you? Should we try again to make certain- mmph!” Finn’s final sentence was cut off as Poe fisted a hand in the front of his shirt to pull him in for another drugging kiss, the azure centre of the Bird of Paradise flower pressed between their bodies.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments, kudos and concrit are all greatly appreciated.


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